PEOPLE IN CARS DON'T FACE EACH OTHER.

i drove alone to buffalo and scratched a heart around your name on every rest stop vending machine i passed along the way. i'd take in speed for days. i took pictures from the car window, these colored blurs of time. left them for you by the payphones 'cause i can't call right. it's just been too much time. the road is without winter glow, just dreary landscape and the whimper of the radio and a rubberbanded picture of your face around an old mixtape you made. i still think i'm going home. i pack my things in crooked lines. took a pill i nicknamed "hope" to change this mood of mine, this awful mood of mine. can't change this mood of mine.

like a mocking dog and pony show in the back rooms of my mind, like the swim in the undertoe- i can't see it, but i sure feel it. all right. i miss you every night. i miss you each night. i still miss you tonight.